Dreams in Letters
by April Twelving
Summary: A series of mysteriously wild letters are posted to Mikan from a rather reclusive secret-admirer. Contains graphical writing in later chapters.
1. Choked Envelope

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Gakuen Alice, or anything related to it. The rightful people do. But this plot however, and this story is mine and I wouldn't take it lightly if you were to copy.**

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'Mikan! Get the bloody mail already!' came Sumire's raspy voice from where she was perched on the sofa doing her nails in the exact shade of red with which she just described the post. Face smeared with whatever cheap makeup she could cram from the local supermarket's beauty department, and her stick thin figure draped in a rather revealing dress, she was dedicated to painting her nails very carefully so as to not make one finger look the odd one. This was just another night where Sumire was getting ready for a sleazy party downtown; hoping to reel in some nice looking fish thinking the best bait was her pasty appearance.

And this was just another night where Mikan came rushing down the stairs from her little cell of a bedroom, throwing curses at Sumire in a near grumbling voice for rousing her out of the trance she had fallen in with her current read—when would Sumire ever understand the passion that literature evokes in one?! Though she had somewhat gotten used to Sumire making her do most things at their shared apartment, Mikan didn't always like it when she was separated from a book to do her slave work.

'Coming!' Whatever reluctance she might have at doing others' work would stay only within her given she was a meek little innocent lassie. Tripping over her unlaced mismatched sneakers, she came rushing through the stairs to hasten out the door, and into the rainy night after slipping on a dark hoodie by the door. The sound of gravel crunching beneath her soles in sync with the slight patter of raindrops seemed comforting against the blaring rock music of her housemate's choice from which she had ducked out.

Rounding the corner, she noticed that her destination showed signs of having tampered with; there was a enveloped that looked like it was forcibly shoved into the box's opening, and the stiff white material stood choked halfway, a half inside the box and the other half exposed to the wrath that water would bring on paper.

Upon opening the mailbox, Mikan saw just two junk mail addressed for Sumire, and thought it strange that the white envelope having her name should be choked so, when there was space aplenty for it to go in. Shrugging it away, she went back in and up to her room not before she threw the other mail to her housemate's face, causing her nail paint to tip over and soil her dress and thus a piercing scream joined the rock music's blare.

Giggling at Sumire's plight, she yanked open her door, kicked off her shoes and pounced on the bed harder than usual, anticipation and curiosity rushing through her veins at what her letter could contain; Mikan had been an anti-social person for as long as she could remember as a result of which she got no recognition even from spam mailers.

That being said, it was indeed a surprise when her name that was always misspelt by many to bully her was written in neat, beautifully formed words by what could have only been a strong hand. Right when she carefully opened up the flap, and pulled out the scented crimson paper to notice the exquisite handwriting on it was when her door was kicked open by Sumire's four inch heeled shoe with a loud bang.

'You can't just sit here with that dreamy look on your face after you ruined my dress, nerd!' came she screaming, brandishing the part of fabric that had a rather large blotch of red splashed on it. Sumire quickly realized something amiss when there was no geeky response from Mikan to having been called dreamy, and out went the letter from the brunette's nimble clasp into Sumire's rough one.

A squeaky 'Give it back, Permy, it doesn't belong to you!' had no effect for it was long since the perm-girl snatched it away. Settling herself at the edge of her housemate's bed, Sumire was squinting her beady eyes to take in what the letter contained. Mikan rushed forward, and read it with her, chin perched on Sumire's shoulder.

"It was like yesterday but I met you and you came to the mall alone to buy few things and I did surprise you. I ran to you while you were in the parking lot. You had a car though. I kissed you hard and became a bit violent like "I want to fuck you" kind of violent and pulled you inside the car and we did IT for the first time! 3 CRAZY OR WHAT!"

'WHAT THE FUCK' was the slow chant of both the girls in unison before Sumire let out a cackling howl of laughter, collapsed onto the floor in a stream of loud laughter, the matter for which she came bursting in completely forgotten. 'Good going, nerd! With elementary-kid grammar and handwritten heart signs, you sure have bagged your equal alright! Have a good night reminiscing your secret lover's dirty dream!' Out went Permy with a bright face, this stranger who sent the letter had secretly avenged for Sumire, and she was content.

What of Mikan then? Well, it might be just about right to guess that the crumpled paper was thrown to a corner following her scream of 'You stupid pervert!'

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**-April Twelving.**


	2. Pink Nose

**Replies to reviewers:**

Worst Person: You have an interesting pen-name. Thank you for your wishes, I will be continuing this story. ^.^

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WhiteLily123: Thank you for your patience, here's the next update. :)

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Gakuen Alice, or anything related to it. The rightful people do. But this plot however, and this story is mine and I wouldn't take it lightly if you were to copy.**

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It was the ritualistic Saturday night where all of Mikan's gang of friends gathered at their usual place, a pub owned by the twins' parents, to meet and greet each other, to catch up with that other piece of gossip they hadn't chanced upon yet, and most importantly, to drown out all the sorrows that university life had brought upon them for the past month. Yes, all that hoo-ha was a monthly thing that was obligatory for everyone to attend, else they'd get the bad end of the lounge couch at the bar and would be made to drink whatever cheap whisky the poorest person in the lot could effort.

Mikan set into thought; of course Sumire would mouth off about Mikan's recent "stalker letter" without even one drink in her system, and if news of that awkward, ill formed letter broke out, then her carefully maintained innocent composure would be blasted apart. There could possibly exist no way to bribe Sumire out of attending the meet except buy her that ridiculously expensive handbag she'd eyed the other day, but Mikan would have to simply forget attending university should she choose the bribery; the recent incident surely wasn't _THAT_ big of a bother to cover up and forego her education.

So there, the realization that her secret would be exposed to all hit her not so surprisingly. The least she'd be able to do was not stay at the place where Sumire would oust it all. Mikan could choose to stay at her dingy little apartment room, she could afford to choose to skip the meet as it was a well known truth that the poorest of the gang was Mikan, so if she wouldn't come, she would be spared the expense of either buying someone the beer (even the cheapest beer was obviously expensive for Mikan's wallet) or drinking cheap beer that someone else would buy for her. Spending the time in rereading the Fifty Shades trilogy sounded like a wonderful option just then.

Sumire argued a lot and fought over Mikan's refusal to come till the fresh gold paint on her nails dried up. As she ran late, she gave up on it and exited their place after throwing a real nasty, disapproving look at her best friend. The loud 'bang' of the door was in sync with the 'hop' sound that Mikan's mismatched speakers made upon hitting the first step of the stairway leading to her room. Worry was for tomorrow, or maybe in a couple of minutes till angry texts from friends would flood her inbox. Now was for books, solace and peace.

An hour or two must have passed since Sumire left Mikan to her own bliss; the ice-cream truck that would usually make a weird nine pm round of the neighborhood was coming around, its bells pealing high. Having been stuck in her room for a while then, and of course having had enough of a character she didn't like in the book, Mikan decided that it was time for a break, for some strawberry ice-cream with sprinkles and sizzling chocolate sauce on the top, and decided to finish it off while sitting out on their cold porch. She made it out onto the street just before the truck could drive off of the street; she couldn't help but stand dumbstruck at the mailbox a little and wonder about which insane person would have had the guts to imagine fucking her. Truth be told, she never had had any luck in the dating department what with always being stuck to a book that was hard to tear her eyes away from.

A sharp yell from the girl, and a couple of forced grumbles from the young truck driver got Mikan her ice-cream just the way she wanted it. Unknown to her, the boy watched her intently while he took his time to choose her choice of cone, ogled her outfit while the strawberry ice-cream was guzzled by the thick cone, and the sprinkles took quite a while as they were (claimed to be) empty, thus giving the ice-cream benefactor all the necessary time in giving Mikan more than just giving an eyeful along with her treat. Boy was he so glad that the raspy whiskers-girl wasn't with the brunette that night like always!He'd set his eyes on this one for too long and was tired of that common one's non-attractive attempts at flirting with him.

'Give me your number, and I'll pass on your treat for tonight.' was the direct sentence shot at Mikan while he held her cone at arm's length-an inviting offer for her, he knew that well as he'd been noticing her from the time she was hunting for apartments in that area after having been accepted at the university, and each time when she'd bought ice-cream from him for about two years now. It was surprising for Mikan; she felt amazed at how she hadn't made a friend of this awesome ice-cream truck Toru, by the likes of his nameplate, the very first time she'd bought from him, and was somehow feeling low for being a 'bad person,' clearly ignorant of the fact that tempting-Toru might be the bad guy there. No, she wasn't surprised that he was asking for her number at all, she was just wired that way, as chillingly innocent as the pink fluff that was enticing her just across.

After a little jig on the spot and a cheery 'Yay!' from his customer, Toru wryly smiled at his victory. 'Not much in this one, such an easy win...' he thought while handing the cone back, touching her fingers for an instant longer, mistakenly of course. He chatted her up for a while longer, dilly-dallying, as Sumire would've termed it, making her spill her personal things though nothing as such came from his lips; he wanted to know more of this alluring girl from whom he wanted his share...

Finished with her dessert, Mikan handed a few bills and hastily began jotting down her number on a piece of tissue for Toru; the cold of the night was getting to her, and after her strawberry delight caused the night's freeze to drop down a little for her, huddling within her blanket with a hoodie on was what she wanted to do.

A sudden, loud crunch of gravel startled both people under the ice-cream truck shelter, causing Mikan to lightly jerk forward in surprise, her nose touching the cone and leaving a small pink blob on her nose. The bright light of the street lamp shone a good tone of reflection off of the incoming person's black, formal shoes, while displaying the long legs clad in grey trousers striding fast toward them, the figure looming larger with each step taken, illuminating strong features in the night's shadow of a well-built male who had his jacket hung on his shoulder. Mikan was reminded of her current read's hero as the man's silhouette seemed nearly-similar to the description in her worn-out novel.

A smooth face appeared out from the inky darkness once the steps faltered and came to a stop. Abnormally bright crimson eyes and a flash of earrings caught her sight with a jolt, and the rest of her observation of the stranger brought yet another shocking wave upon her-the man was too beautiful and...hot! Hot was generally Sumire's words for a buffed-up man she'd corner to flirt, but never Mikan; this was a new change in the brunette's mental vocabulary.

Red-eyes must have found her rude for he sent her an equally fixated glance till her embarrassed red face turned away. Her cheeks reddened even more when she caught wind of him staring at her ice-cream drooping pink nose. Hastily wiping it off with the tissue with her number on, she quickly bid goodnight to Toru and

mikan gets to just see him, gets entranced by his strange red eyes; this guy was too intimidating and she was simply too meek.

Toru was highly agitated at his new customer, by the looks of the man standing inside the truck's roof, for making Mikan go away just when she was about to hand in her number, he cursed his luck for how stupidly Mikan used the tissue in wiping herself before chucking it away when he was to have saved her number by then! He wanted to shout at the man, give him a blow across that pretty face of his. Toru wanted to trash him out until he saw the stranger's face. His breath caught at the wide, twisted smile that made the man look terrifically violent. The man caught Toru's sight and nodded up to Mikan's building, then pointed to himself, all the while having that devilish, threatening look plastered on his face.

Gulping down hard on his throat, poor ice-cream boy got away with his vehicle for he was made clear of one thing: that silly brunette was this man's girl by the way it looked. Guys easily make it clear to one another of who is their girl is, so the others can not mess with her.

Natsume Hyuuga grinned more widely at Toru's and Mikan's departure, much happy at the latter's. He didn't want any male to tarnish her even just a little. He would make sure. That he would.

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**A/N: Though this was initially written down in my phone, here is where I got most of this chapter shaped up and typed out: goo . gl / SOZgXa**

**(Remove the spaces here and there.)**

**-April Twelving.**


	3. Eye-(d)uck

**April says: Thank you so much for all your support, reviews and follows! I apologize for the very late update, but here it is!**

**Replies to reviewers:**

love crimson red ray88: Here you go! :)

Guest: Thank you! Here is the update ^^ I don't know if you may see this or not..

kat: Here is the update! Well, as for the letter, you'd know who it was from later on in the story. *winks*

ahasya: Here you go. :)

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Gakuen Alice, or anything related to it. The rightful people do. But this plot however, and this story is mine and I wouldn't take it lightly if you were to copy.**

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Natsume stared across the hall, his gaze fixed hard upon the barely clothed blond who held an equally fixated look by his way. Up and down, the eyes traversed, before making two more circumnavigations; from her very obviously-artificial messy curled blond strands, to her face that would have been appreciably beautiful if not caked in tasteless, heavy makeup, to her very skimpy pink blouse and short shorts, and to her three-inch heels, it was easily obvious that she was an attention-seeker. And that is exactly what she got. Mid-glance, Natsume's brows slightly hitched back, and that did not go unnoticed, for more than three quarters of the crowd at the cafeteria held Natsume Hyuuga in high regard and also kept an eye on most of his actions.

It was the understanding of this crowd that the "hot" Luna Koizumi was being eye-fucked by their much hotter poster-boy. It was this very understanding that caused Koizumi herself to come to believe that the well-known eye-candy Hyuuga had his eyes only for her frame. It was a sad affair, a severe misunderstanding that spread wildly to become an established fact among the freshmen.

Why would it be sad when the two most sought-after hot people are linked together? Well, that would be because the said hot boy had never for once glanced at the said hot girl. This truth went overlooked by all but for two people in the venue.

The gang of girls who were not overly obsessed over Natsume Hyuuga's hotness always took their seats at an obviously farther table from him. This gang had Mikan Sakura for its member who hadn't a clue that she had been claimed the previous night as a certain somebody's spark of interest, who never really knew anything of Natsume Hyuuga.

Oh but Natsume knew her alright. He knew. About her, her likes and dislikes, the way her pink little tongue would thrust out just a bit at the sight of her comfort food, the way she clipped back her bangs from her forehead during tests, the way she'd hold her pencil... And he knew what she had been doing this lunch hour as he had been looking away from her not once. Not for Luna Koizumi.

So that was the truth: Natsume Hyuuga kept staring at Mikan Sakura and Hotaru Imai carefully watched Natsume Hyuuga watching Mikan Sakura, watched how his eyebrows hitched a little when her best friend accidentally bit her lip while chatting away into oblivion.

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Later that night, Hotaru saw two crumpled paper balls in her best friend's dust bin. She thought it rare for someone who never used stationery except during exam time.

The paper balls, once smoothened, caused her amethyst eyes to widen in shocking surprise, which shortly gave way to a sly smirk playing on her lips.

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**April says: I know this was short, so I'll make up with a slightly longer chapter the next time. Let me know how you like the progress through reviews or PMs. :)**

**-April Twelving **


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